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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395165">Good People</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endless_Torment/pseuds/Endless_Torment'>Endless_Torment</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rediscovered Bonds [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood Brothers Ending (Life is Strange 2), Domestic Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, Post-Canon, Superpowers, Teenagers, Translation in English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:28:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395165</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endless_Torment/pseuds/Endless_Torment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a saying in Spanish: you're going in the right direction as long as there are good people along the way. And if that's true, Mexico was definitely the damn right direction.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daniel Diaz &amp; Sean Diaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rediscovered Bonds [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Good People</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A translation of <a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/8897693">Хорошие люди</a> by <a href="https://ficbook.net/authors/65921">Торика</a>.</p><p>This is the second fic of Торика's I've translated, the first being <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24939286">Griffel of gloss</a>. </p><p>Also, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmooseberry/pseuds/msmooseberry">msmooseberry</a> did translations of two of her other fics  - <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26408722">I have nightmares</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26381602">Hello, Sean</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mexico smells of hot dust, dry grass, and burnt rubber. And the long-awaited freedom and security. The Diazes ride hand-in-hand for the first few kilometers, silently and without turning on the radio, because it still seems too unreal to risk breaking this stunning illusion with mundane words.</p><p>Daniel braves to the last, but, exhausted, passes out in silence, dropping his head on his shoulder. Sean smiles and tries to steer the car gently over the bumps so that his brother doesn't get shaken up. And A few hours later, after much persuasion, he still agrees to take a nap at the wheel, entrusting the management to Daniel's powers on a section of an empty highway.</p><p>"If you get tired, get scared of something or just feel restless…"</p><p>"You'll be there, Sean. You won't miss anything."</p><p>After not sleeping for more than a day, he passes out no sooner after closing his eyes, and wakes up forty minutes later, feeling happy and rested. Daniel rides sideways, his back pressed against his brother's shoulder and his heels pressed against the glass, and only slightly moves his fingers in a relaxed way, controlling both the steering wheel and the pedals. They cross eyes and smile calmly at each other, Sean hugs him across his chest with one hand and not immediately grabbing the steering wheel.</p>
<hr/><p>At a gas station on the way, Sean, leading his brother behind him, puts a ten-dollar bill on the counter to a stumpy, obese Mexican woman and asks her to use the service shower and heat a can of bean soup in the microwave. Daniel clings to his arm, looks out from behind him and not understanding what is being said in Spanish, carefully reacts to the minimal changes in intonation, so he can imagine when his brother might need help.</p><p>After examining the bill incredulously, the hostess nods to the service door and Sean, peering through it first, lets Daniel go ahead.</p><p>"American accent. Born behind the wall?"</p><p>"Just lived there for a long time."</p><p>"You wouldn't know it from your brother. I bet he didn't understand a word you said."</p><p>"No, he just didn't hear it."</p><p>"Cautious, huh? But within these walls you can speak freely. This is the last gas station before the border. How many refugees do you think I've wished a safe journey to?"</p><p>"And how many of them had a happy journey?"</p><p>"They don't come back. God only knows now for what reason."</p><p>Daniel comes out quickly, his hair wet and smelling of laundry soap and rust, and obligingly lets his brother check his shoulder. Karen had found their belongings at a flea market before leaving: worn jeans, faded T-shirts, washed shirts, and sneakers with scratched toes. They shouldn't have gone to a poor country smelling of new clothes: they would have enough problems without social hatred.</p><p>After patting his brother on the back, Sean himself goes to scrape off the border and prison dust off his body and knows that his brother is waiting for him, pressing his back against the back of the door.</p><p>For another dollar, the gas station owner inserts Sean's flash drive into the computer and prints out a black-and-white photo of Sean and Daniel with their father on a quarter of a sheet of cheap gray paper, and borrows a metal spoon. The Diazes eat in a closed car, alternately swapping a spoon and a thermos from Away, the coffee from which looks like damn oil, and from time to time they look at each other and laugh out loud, saluting their fancy lunch to Dad in the picture.</p>
<hr/><p>They find a house in Puerto Lobos by sunset. Daniel has to tear off the boards that were used to board up the windows, because no one bothered to think about tools when they were packing in Away. Sean keeps a hand on his shoulder and tries not to think about what's waiting for them on the inside.</p><p>He puts his brother on the windowsill and as he prepares to hoist himself up with his arms, floats in the air just high enough to step over. Sean smiles at his brother, ruffles his hair, and swallows hard, taking in the room.</p><p>The furniture had been cleaned out, even some cables were cut off, the parquet floor was swollen in several places from the leaking roof that had run for several years, and the floor is covered with sand from somewhere almost up to the ankles. Before Sean can get anything out of his parched throat, Daniel sweeps all the trash into the corner with a flick of his hand, seals the boards from the window against the holes in the roof, and moves their backpacks inside. He looks at his brother too seriously for a ten-year-old.</p><p>"It's still dad's house. We'll figure it out."</p><p>They go to sleep on the floor, and Daniel hugs his brother around his stomach, resting his head on his chest, as if this is the only way he has ever slept. Sean stares at the ceiling, feels his eye burn, and tries not to whimper.</p>
<hr/><p>When Daniel wakes up in the middle of the night, Sean is shaking. He's thrashing around on the floor, trying to grab something invisible, and in his moans and grunts Daniel can barely make out something along the lines of "Don't touch him" and "We didn't do anything," and quickly climbs up, gently dragging his brother's head into his lap. Sean wakes up restlessly, gasps for air, and doesn't immediately realize where he is.</p><p>"Shh. You just had a nightmare. You're all right. And with me, too. We're home."</p><p>"We're not at home anywhere, enano. We don't sleep on the floor at home. At home there is light and water, at home the windows are not boarded up."</p><p>Sean rubs the bridge of his nose, exhausted, and Daniel gently strokes his head, making a fat centipede crawl away from his brother with an evil squint of his eyes.</p><p>"I should have turned myself in to the police, like David said. That's right, they wouldn't have touched you. They wouldn't even have had the right to question you. They'd have sent you to Claire and Stephen, and you'd have gone to school with Chris. You'd have been fine."</p><p>"A brother in prison because of me—is that a good thing? Sean, I wouldn't have let you turn yourself in. You're not the only one who decides what our story will be about, remember? And do you remember what you said to me on the bus? You said I was fine. Ten hours before that, I blew up a motel room without touching anything, and you said I was fine. Now it's my turn to say it. We're fine. We're just special and that's why we sleep on the floor at home. You taught me how to use my power. We'll learn to live in Mexico."</p><p>Sean feels his brother's palm somewhere around the top of his head in the darkness. He covers it gratefully with his own.</p>
<hr/><p>The first morning in Mexico begins with Spanish swearing and attempts to break down their door. Sean doesn't even have time to sit up, let alone figure out who has any complaints. About a dozen Latinos pile into their room unceremoniously, led by a screaming piebald old woman and at least three men behind her with bats in hand, that they are tapping on their open palms. Sean hears his brother calling out to him questioningly from behind, and he can almost feel Daniel's power gathering around them.</p><p>And among the too fast, probably over fifty percent obscene foreign speech, he picks out the words "in my son's house."</p><p>"Wait," Sean interjects in Spanish, and knowing that he won't have time to explain anything to his brother, touches his shoulder in a confidential gesture without looking at him. And to the indignant old woman; without rising from his knees, he holds out a photograph printed at the gas station. "This is our dad's house."</p><p>The old woman studies the paper with eyes that are clearly not very good at seeing, lowers it several times, comparing it with the living Diaz, and then her menacingly drawn eyebrows go limp into something affectionate and almost loving.</p><p>"These are Esteban's children... my grandchildren—" she breathes, half to herself, half to the people she has brought, and with a slightly trembling hand she hands Sean back his treasure. "Did something happen to him?"</p><p>All Sean can do is swallow and nod curtly, but that seems to be enough in Mexico. Dad's mother nods too, closes her eyes for a second, and saying nothing more to Sean, she turns back to her army.</p><p>"What are you standing around for? Get the boys some tacos and hurry."</p><p>Ten people swear in Spanish after this statement, and Daniel clings uncomfortably to the edge of Sean's shirt from behind. He squeezes his fingers gently and whispers softly that it's all right.</p><p>Babulita pushes her company out of her grandchildren's house, and they all return in a row half an hour later. As a bonus to the tacos, an open but almost full bag of instant coffee is brought into the house, rice, flour, salt and paprika scattered in paper bags, chipped plates, aluminum forks, mugs with broken handles, a pot bent from the side, a plastic basin, thin and yellow bed linen from repeated washing, crumpled pillows, lumpy mattresses, two wooden chairs, a table on wobbly legs and creaking beds with rusty armor netting.</p><p>"I'm sorry, boys, we can't give you much, but I hope it's enough to last you awhile."</p><p>"It's a lot more than we could have hoped for. Thanks."</p><p>"Believe me, Esteban left for a better life for a reason. But there is life here, too. If you have his blood in you, you must be very strong. I gave birth to thirteen children, and only Esteban had the heart to give up everything and start a new life in a foreign country. You two got here together, and that's saying something. You are his children."</p><p>Sean thinks that's the best compliment he's ever heard. And it's the first phrase in Spanish he teaches Daniel.</p>
<hr/><p>Either a great-uncle or a great-nephew, in Mexico everyone has a very complicated pedigree, gets Sean a job at the market unloading cars with merchandise. Daniel spends the entire shift hanging around with his hands in his pockets, and Sean cautiously glances around and tries to plausibly puff and bend his back at exactly the right angle, as when the first bag was loaded on him, because, thanks to Daniel, they don't weigh a single gram for Sean.</p><p>"Dude, Summer will be over soon, and you won't be able to go to work with me. And they'll demand I work at the same speed."</p><p>"Maybe by the end of the Summer you'll be promoted for that hard work. Didn't I let you be a caring brother? Shut up and let me be one too."</p><p>They learn Spanish by ear, repeating after the crowd at the market, Sean translates everything to Daniel, and explains with a broad smile to anyone who stares at them incredulously, that they are learning English, and most of the time the disgruntled squint of the younger ones eyes is replaced by the understanding wrinkles of his forehead. On the fifth day, Daniel can explain it, too.</p><p>They scurry through the shops of the city, smiling cordially at the vendors, Sean chatting with them about building materials, hugging his silent, but extremely charming brother while paying for light bulbs or screws. They get in the car, and in the trunk or back seats are heavy buckets of glue and paint, scotch-taped boards and rolls of wallpaper—all of which Daniel stealthily transports out of sight of unsuspecting sellers in a few trips. For bigger items like a couch, a stove, or a bathtub, they go to Los Tánquez or Puerto Libertat on weekends, so they don't run into big trouble where they have a long life to live.</p><p>Daniel fixes the roof and rearranges the floor like a Lego construction set and unclogs the pipes purely by thought, and at night he sits cross-legged on the floor for hours and watches Sean paint the walls.</p><p>They make spaghetti from dad's recipe and go out to eat on the back terrace. Sean digs to the bottom of his backpack to pull out his notebook and sketch the sunset by the ocean. Daniel, making sure his brother is comfortable rustling his pencil in the canopy, rests his head on his lap.</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>"If you're drawing, it means everything is calm. It's nice to know that. Can you add us to it?"</p><p>Sean smiles and in small strokes inscribes the two boys on the beach side, looking out at the ocean.</p>
<hr/><p>In September, Daniel is taken to school clustered with the other Diaz kids and is not interested in who their parents are. Sean by then is rewarded at work for his efforts and is promoted to loading bags on the backs of other boys who also need work. There's nothing to haul, and he gets paid more money.</p><p>Sean comes home for the evening, explains the math to his brother and, when it becomes clear, translates it into Spanish. Daniel sits at the table with his heels on the seat, his knees against the edge of the tabletop and bites the tip of his pencil.</p><p>"It's hard enough in English."</p><p>"And the frustrating thing is that it's useless in moderation."</p><p>"You're not much of a motivator."</p><p>They walk along the coast until dark, stepping ankle-deep in warm sea water, casually reading the American news and making little things easier for everyone who helped them when they were too stunned to know what to do. They leave a new basin on their grandma's doorstep to replace the cracked one, hide insulin vials in uncle Mateo's refrigerator between the milk bottles he didn't have enough money for, pull out aunt Pilar's car that got stuck in the mud on the highway exit, and then watch from a corner as all of them look around lost and cover their faces, unable to restrain their emotions. Sean, under Daniel's guidance, draws pictures for his classmate Cotta, and she starts regularly visiting them, starting mid-October.</p><p>Sean chuckles quietly and buys a third cup, plate, and spoon to take home.</p>
<hr/><p>Lyla arrives around Christmas. Sean called her back in the Fall, when he and Daniel got bold enough to write a bunch of letters and make some calls. Letters were sent from neighboring towns, and calls were made from passersby's phones and no one was given the exact address, but the car just starts honking in front of their fence, and when Sean gets out to see what's wrong, Lyla flies out of the car and throws herself on his neck.</p><p>"How did you get here?"</p><p>"It's only a two-day car ride from Seattle to Puerto Lobos with overnight stays and stops. I don't know how you guys spent six months here."</p><p>"How'd you find the house?"</p><p>"I went through a bunch of pictures, and I remembered I was doing a selfie in your kitchen, and the fridge was supposed to be in the picture. There's a picture of the house on it."</p><p>"You're a hell of a Sherlock, Lyla."</p><p>"Thank you. Can I get a cup of coffee? That was the longest drive I've ever made in my life."</p><p>She walks into their house and searches through the drawers for coffee, sugar and cups by herself, while yapping about college, cheerleading and building a new stadium in Seattle, as if they still live on neighboring streets and saw each other last week. When Daniel returns from Cotta's, Lyla just waves and smiles at him from the kitchen, like she's Skyping her friend's annoying little brother, and Daniel, not thinking straight from shock, forgets to say hello and just floats into the kitchen and sits next to his brother across from Lyla, staring at her with wide eyes. She doesn't seem the least bit embarrassed.</p><p>She drags Sean outside, making it a condition that he must draw her against the ocean's background, and only by the water does she seem to reset to her factory settings. She become Lyla, who six months ago was told by his best friend, in response to outrages about how he could miss the world's lamest party, that his daddy had been shot and is now on the run with his little brother and can't tell anyone where he is. Lyla, who was so worried about him she couldn't sleep without sleeping pills for months and cried a lot even on short phone calls. Lyla, who also had a hard time with the damn six months of not knowing.</p><p>"You have to tell me everything. Everything there is to tell."</p><p>Sean mumbles something inarticulate to collect his thoughts, and raises his eye very hopefully to his brother, who came out so just in time to bring them tea and plaids.</p><p>"Why are you looking at me? I trust her."</p><p>Daniel levitates the cup into Lyla's hands with his mind, and she first accepts it with a gasp and only then realizes that something unusual has happened.</p><p>"You're my protector. Wait, what?"</p><p>Sean chuckles, accepting the cup from his brother the same way, three meters away from him.</p><p>"There's a lot to tell, Lai."</p>
<hr/><p>On the first night in Puerto Lobos with her, Lyla bravely stays awake, drinking cup after cup of coffee, listening calmly to such an implausible story, and not being startled by Daniel when he forcefully adjusts a blanket that slid off her back.</p><p>By dawn, she just passes out on Sean's shoulder, and the Diazes lay her down on the living room couch, fill her car's gas tank and leaves a bag of groceries on the seat in case Lyla panics and makes a run for it as soon as she wakes up. But Lyla pops into the kitchen by noon and, rubbing her eyes sleepily, asks for more coffee.</p><p>They spend four days together. Sean takes the day off work and calls Daniel's school to warn him of his absence. They have a race in the ocean, roast sausages over a campfire, teach Lyla how to make tamales, and race to Mexico City for nearly 24 hours to remind the Diazes of the taste of American burgers.</p><p>"With Daniel's power, you broke through the police cordon at the border and rebuilt this house from scratch with three hundred dollars in your pockets? Why can't you do the same thing in America?"</p><p>"Cameras, Lai. Cameras, news, fighting the homeless. In Mexico nobody gives a shit about laws."</p><p>"But that means if something happens to you, no one will protect you, right?"</p><p>"We rebuilt our home, Lai. We're gonna protect it."</p><p>Lyla is on her way back to see her parents before the semester begins. Before she goes she takes a Polaroid photo with the Diazes and hangs it on the refrigerator herself, "so they'll remember it." And the brothers, having waved goodbye to her, stay on the road for another ten minutes after her car disappears over the horizon, and then walks for a few days. It's impossible to forget such guests.</p>
<hr/><p>Even Daniel can't believe such a coincidence, but somehow, exactly in front of their house, someone's car stops. Daniel hears first the coughing sound of a dying engine, and then a Spanish swear word, which he has only just learned to understand, and goes out to see what's wrong, purely because he loves the expressiveness of Mexicans. He hangs on the railing with his chin on his fists and watches with one eye as the bald man in a greasy T-shirt tells the whole street his grievances to the steering wheel, and then clumsily gets out and starts kicking the tire.</p><p>"Problem?"</p><p>"That rusty bucket won't drive another mile. It was our only income. Now how am I supposed to feed my family?"</p><p>"My brother's an auto mechanic. He can look at it when he gets back, if you want. You can pick up the car in the morning."</p><p>"I got about six hundred bucks to spare, kid."</p><p>"That's all right. I don't want to leave my neighbors in the lurch."</p><p>"Thanks, if you're not kidding. Shove it in the yard or the garage?"</p><p>"Don't worry about it. My brother's got an elevator. I'll watch the car."</p><p>And Daniel watches until he can't see the driver anymore, and then with a malicious smile, he levitates the car over the fence.</p>
<hr/><p>Sean comes home from the market hungry and exhausted and collapses on the couch in work jeans and boots. His brother puts a plate of soup in front of him and turns ingratiatingly at the head of the bed, bouncing in his knees and squinting mysteriously.</p><p>"On a scale of one to ten, how tired are you?"</p><p>"I don't know, six?"</p><p>"I found you a more interesting task than bagging. But it has to be done right now."</p><p>As Sean leans over the car, palms up against the bumper, his head hidden behind the hood, Daniel thinks for a second that he's watching his dad work in his garage in Seattle. And he almost loses his balance from the sudden tenderness that comes over him.</p><p>"I'm embarrassed to ask, what were you thinking, promising we'd be done by morning? We don't even have anything to lift it on."</p><p>And before Sean can make another argument, Daniel, with a sly smile, makes the car hover at his eye level.</p><p>"Are you comfortable? The auto parts store is three streets away. Tire shop two blocks away."</p><p>"What else did you find out?"</p><p>"That tightening the nuts with my power is a chore, but doable. And bent objects can be straightened, too. I've been practicing on spoons."</p><p>Sean shakes his head with either disapproval or pride, Daniel couldn't tell, and crawls under the car. Daniel literally looks at his mouth, listening carefully to all the instructions and biting the tip of his tongue with concentration to do everything as clearly as possible. Dad didn't teach him how to dig into engines, but it seems to Daniel that Sean has both his father's words and tone when he explains how the engine works.</p><p>Daniel repeats with dignity that first Spanish phrase he heard from his brother.</p><p>"Eres el hijo de tu padre."</p><p>Sean grins too.</p>
<hr/><p>They find out the name of their first client when they settle accounts with him: Diego Pallacias. His Diaz repaired car is thrown out of the driveway in the morning to avoid a completely empty garage. Two children who had repaired a piece of junk overnight without tools would have raised questions.</p><p>Sean hugs the steering wheel with both arms, and lowers his heavy, humming head on it, while Daniel sits on the road with his legs stretched out and his back against the driver's door. Diego looks at the outside of his car in disbelief and is shocked to fly about a meter away when the ignition key turns easily under Sean's fingers and the engine hums smoothly and quietly. He hands him a bunch of misplaced twenties, one at a time, through the window, because Sean isn't going to get out of the car until he gets all the money.</p><p>"Six hundred. Your brother said it would cost six hundred."</p><p>"He told me that, too, I know."</p><p>"Good road. Tell your friends about us. We take on any breakage. Our prices are twenty percent lower than auto repair shops."</p><p>When Diego, still turning his head in awe to reassure himself of the reality of the mechanical wizards, drives away, Sean returns to his house, makes himself a strong brew of coffee and drinks it standing up, leaning his hand on the table, because he knows that if he takes a slightly more horizontal position, he'll fall asleep immediately. Daniel, out of solidarity, does not go to bed either, but very sluggishly lowers his head on the table.</p><p>"We just made six hundred without spending a single peso?" Sean says in disbelief.</p><p>"I told you I had a good plan."</p>
<hr/><p>And the plan turns out to be good up to a certain point, because the Diazes are really being talked about. They are fitted with folded bumpers, broken doors and something that's been driving around for six months with pantyhose instead of an alternator belt.</p><p>Sean at times takes to swearing in Spanish and at other times he prays to his father and asks for strength. He leaves his job at the market and buys tools so that Daniel can go to school, and of course he does, but now he prefers to do his homework in the garage, sitting cross-legged on the washing machine and holding his notebooks up, so he can half-watch his brother, just in time to roll up the keys and spare parts.</p><p>When mechanics start talking about them, everything ceases to seem so utopianly perfect. Mexico is a poor country, the right to exist is gouged out in blood, and Sean should have thought it worked both ways. New mechanics had taken over the lion's share of customers, shortages at the car dealerships were soaring, and there was little chance that this would be ignored.</p><p>When a window was broken with a stone at night, the Diazes jump up from the noise, but, seeing no obvious threat in the house, they fall asleep again, writing it off as a hooligan prank. And very much regret it, having ignored the first warning.</p><p>The second doesn't follow; three weeks and four repaired Diaz cars later, lean Mexicans not much older than Sean simply break into their house, with old scars on their hands and faces and guns tucked into their belts. Sean doesn't even have time to straighten up, let alone explain anything. They don't really ask for an explanation, they just shoot him in the stomach with a stony expression on their faces, as if this is the order of things.</p><p>As he sinks to the floor, Sean tries not to think that this might actually be normal.</p>
<hr/><p>That day, Daniel gets home from school just damn near on time. He almost leads Cotta to the house when he hears a gunshot, and in a rush he tells her to stay outside in either Spanish or English, before he knows it. He doesn't have time to figure out what happened at home either, taking a second to assess intruders and his brother lying on the floor with his bloody palm pressed to his stomach.</p><p>Daniel does not ask anyone's permission: he silently throws someone against the wall first, and someone through the windows, a few more bullets hang in the air, and the glass shatters. Daniel's attention is lacking to trace whether he killed someone or just seriously frightened and crippled them, freeing the house from strangers, he falls to his knees before his brother, gently removing his hand from his stomach, blood immediately falling to the floor in several heavy clots.</p><p>"God. No, no, no."</p><p>Sean is pale from the blood loss and unable to speak because of it, and his wound looks so damn gruesome. Daniel tries to focus his powers precisely on it, and Sean groans painfully from too much pressure and coughs strangling, spitting out blood and saliva. Daniel awkwardly strokes his shoulder and tries to figure out what to do next; he doesn't even notice Cotta squatting beside him.</p><p>"My mother is a doctor. She'll help."</p><p>The two of them, holding Sean by his arms, drag him out of the house and puts him in the driver's seat of the car.</p><p>"Can he drive?"</p><p>"He can't."</p><p>With his powers Daniel turns the key in the ignition with his hand, presses the pedal and pulls the car onto the road and locks the doors before a squealing Cotta can jump out.</p><p>"Cotta, we don't have time. Where to go?"</p><p>Cotta blinks away her tears, scratches the seats with shaky hands, but tells him where to turn, clearly and on time, and when a passers-by look at their car, she even tries to give them a cheerful expression.</p><p>Sean blinks heavily, clasps his hand over his wound and keeps his other on the steering wheel for secrecy, but with great difficulty focuses his eye on the road ahead. Daniel tries not to look at his brother's stomach or listen to Cotta's sobs, but he is too distracted by both.</p><p>Again, the two of them unload Sean from the car and drag him to the emergency exit. The Mexican hospital occupies only two floors and smells of alcohol and pus inside, a few wandering men in pajamas with loosely bandaged heads showing little interest in the cramped, overburdened children.</p><p>Cotta's mother turns out to be an elderly woman in a colorful surgical jacket, eating Chinese noodles out of a box to an old Indian soap opera in a small room behind a door with a sign saying "Nurse's Room." And the guests clearly knock her out of her rut. She jumps up from the couch, it seems, out of inertia, and an unconscious Sean is immediately dumped on the same couch.</p><p>"Cotta, what's going on?"</p><p>"Mom, we don't have time to explain. Just help him."</p><p>And the woman, already kneeling at Sean's headboard and touching his forehead, takes one appraising look first at her daughter and her friend, then at the poor furnishings of the room, and sends the unwanted out the door.</p>
<hr/><p>Sean gets wheeled out in a few minutes without a T-shirt, and Daniel tries to follow him, but Cotta grabs his arm and lets him know with her eyes it's not worth bothering her mom now.</p><p>With their pocket-money, they buy one serving of rice and beans at the local cafeteria and eat in silence from the same plate. Cotta doesn't ask questions and tries very hard not to even look up at Daniel, but from time to time she still looks at him uncomfortably and warily, and Daniel can only pretend that he doesn't notice it until a certain stage. After ten minutes of their tense meal, he carefully levitates Cotta's fork a few inches from the table, and she stares at it in fascination for a few seconds and catches it, glancing furtively around to see if anyone else has seen it.</p><p>"We don't really understand it. But usually, if it's revealed, we have to move."</p><p>"Do you want to move?"</p><p>"I don't know. My dad got killed, now my brother's been shot… It feels like all we do is move from one problem to another. And most often these problems are because of me."</p><p>"It seems like your brother got to the hospital because of you."</p><p>"Without me, he might not have needed the hospital. Maybe Sean was right, we shouldn't have crossed the border. In America, at least, we'd still have lives. Maybe we shouldn't have been so eager for Mexico."</p><p>Daniel rubs the last of the sauce on his plate with his fork, and Cotta reaches across the table to place her hand over his. Daniel looks up at her with puzzled eyes, as if pulled out of an unpleasant dream, and Cotta looks at her with a leveled and sympathetic expression, as if nothing has happened. The same as Lyla.</p><p>"You know what they say in Mexico? You're moving in the right direction as long as there are good people along the way."</p><p>And before Daniel has time to process the words, Cotta gets distracted by the beep of an old cheap push-button phone that almost all the kids in Puerto Lobos drive with.</p><p>"Mom wrote. They're done. Your brother will be fine."</p><p>Cotta skips into the department first, as if she was at home, kisses her mother on the cheek and exchanges a few words with her, before returning to business. The first night, she stays with Daniel in Sean's room like a kitten, curled up at his feet, and Daniel falls asleep sitting up with his head on the corner of his brother's pillow. They pour tea into the nurses' cups in the morning and cut someone's sandwich brought for a night snack for two. The doctor on duty takes them to school, and on the way Daniel even talks to his brother, who was slipped a phone as soon as he wakes up. Glancing at Cotta's embarrassed smile, he tells him the theory of the right direction.</p><p>Because if that's the case, Mexico was definitely the damn right destination.</p>
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